5.07.2011

MORNING LIGHT


This morning I did my usual thing: made a pot of tea, took a mug into the garden, and walked around for the early inspection to see what the day's chores would be. I looked at the bare patches and wondered were some of my friends just slow? or had they disappeared?


I looked at the plants that were in the wrong place, looked at the chewed edges on others, looked at the grasses I had neglected to cut back, looked at the roses I had recently pruned and wondered if I had been too severe. And then it struck me, why don't I ever notice what I've done right?


What looked right this morning was the way the light was slanting in across some of the beds, so that the leaves shone, and the dew sparkled and clung to every crenellation, and the daffodils, though a bit ragged, glowed softly. I said a fond and tender goodbye to them; they are in their last days.


I had nothing to do with any of the moments of beauty that caught my eye this morning. But here's what I did right: I noticed them.

21 comments:

Madgew said...

Why is that we look on the negative when the beauty is right before our eyes. Thanks for this reminder to see wonder first.

Anonymous said...

Yes, it is so true, only a person whos tendancy toward perfection could relate to this. I do the very same thing....high expectations of myself and everyone and everything else are very much a part of me.
I have been fighting this since I came of age...sometimes I beat it ...sometimes not so much...where did this come from, I ask myself from time to time.
Was it my father? Was it my mother? Was it both? I know I am a work in progress. You brought it front and center for me this AM. A very good thing as I have had several days of high expectations and needed that wake up call!

Elizabeth55 said...

Thank you, this glorious morn, for your heartfelt words and inspiring images.

One of the many things you have done right is create a very sacred space, out in the ethers.

I am beholden for the richness you bring with each post.

mary said...

Yes, to notice what is right with the world and right with us; to break the old patterns; to glorify the oneness and perfection in each and every moment. Each morning brings a new adventure in self. Thanks, once again, for the reminder. Mary

Violet Cadburry said...

Why is it so difficult to enjoy one's own efforts in the garden. Others comment on how lovely my garden is but I only see the weeds poking through, the bare spots, the dying grass. Perhaps if we treated ourselves with the same courtesy we treat our friends we could silence our critic with kindness.

Anonymous said...

Of all your thoughts, this is my favorite.

Jessie said...

I did the very same thing this morning in my small garden in Westport, CT. Thanks for the reminder that I, too, did something right.

Watercolor said...

That's awesome. We are long past those early spring flowers here and facing 90 degree days next week. Summer is blooming! The zinnias are about to bloom!!

workinpants said...

hi Dominique--i am so glad i found you again--i loved your writing so much when i could purchase your magazine---i also have two of your books---i know this has nothing to do with your lovely post this morning{although i was admiring my just blooming daffodils this morning--we are slower up here in Maritime Canada}. What i wanted to tell you was something you wrote in one of your books rolls through my mind every time i am stuck washing pots---i THANK the pot lovingly for it's gracious service in helping provide a meal. I actually enjoy that aspect of the end of a meal--all because of a wonderful little comment you made----thank you for that and HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!

Sunday Taylor said...

That is so true. I was looking at my garden today and the first thing I did was notice the roses that aren't doing that well, not enough sun. When I came home this afternoon, I looked at the roses that are big and beautiful, on the opposite side of the yard, obviously thriving and after that, all I saw was beauty. We need to stop focusing on the weak points of our garden and enjoy all the beauties instead. Wonderful post!

Judith Ross said...

My thought process exactly, Dominique. I will never get the garden in front of our house exactly right. But my attitude toward my garden in back is so much looser and so forgiving. It once was well-established lawn and I am grateful for every plant that comes through for me back there. And the daffodils under our willow tree -- how wonderful to see those every spring. They were planted the fall before a planned, yet scary surgery knowing they would cheer me up the following spring. And almost 5 years later they still do!

La Maison Citron said...

I agree! I tend to be the same. It is wonderful to take a moment to change your perspective and marvel at what you have created. Your daffodils are beautiful - I am about to pop mine in the ground. Inspired by you I am going to take a positive tour of my garden! Jen

Kellie said...

Begging to differ, like the good contrarian I am, I must say that you had EVERYTHING to do with the beauty of today. We can see beauty in others when we see it in ourselves. We recognize truth when we know it deeply. We attract what we are emitting. Yes, we may be hard on ourselves, but, as Pema Chodren urges, by cultivating gentleness, our inner gentleness blooms - just like the flowers in your garden.
Namaste.

Rhônya Holman said...

Hi Dominique,
Such a lovely post and photos too! I just found your blog and read in one go. I loved every single thing. It is beautiful, inspiring and very well written.

Keep up the great work and positives vibes.

Cheers! =(^.^)=

Karena said...

Dominique you are really an excellent photographer!! Your garden is beautiful! Much to be proud of!

xoxo

Karena
Art by Karena

Warren said...

I strongly suggest everyone with a sense of beauty, appreciation for art and life go see Herzog's "Cave of Forgotten Dreams" that just opened -- about cave drawings done 38,000 years ago in the Chavet Caves in France. The movie is shot in 3D so you FEEL you are there. I've seen rocks in the bottom of the Grand Canyon measured in BILLIONS of years ... 35,000 to 10,000 years ago life did not change much. Folks still painted and chipped on rocks. Consider where we were in 1900 when life expectancy was 55 years and few homes had electricity. Now remember life with pay phones, stay-at-home moms and newspapers that did not show dead bodies, television dared not show commercials with arm pits or navels. I am sure the cave painters 35,000 years ago reacted just as strongly as we do to new buds and warmth in the ground. PROBABLY MORE SO because they lived in the world, not separated as we are with our climate controls. So go outside and wonder how far we have come and yet how little we've changed. We still need to make art; we still wonder at what connects us to the beyond; we still need to love.

Dona M said...

Dominique....This deserves a hearty congratulations, what a beautiful and heartfelt post. I'm reading it on Mother's Day morn before I go out to visit my friends and smell the earth once again. To all the mother's who keep giving, seeing, bending and creating HAPPY DAY, I believe we are the HOPE, for the world.

karenleslie said...

incredible photo of those dew drops on every crenelation. sometimes your photos remind me to look that closely at things. perfection really and nice that you hooked back into beauty in the midst of being self critical.

VL said...

This seems to me to be the human challenge: to both be present (appreciate what is right in front of us) and to use our imagination to conjure images of a better future (more beautiful garden, more balanced phrase, healthier body, healthier planet). To be present, and not-present. The critical, analytical eye is what allows you to create beautiful gardens, and accumulated wisdom allows you to enjoy the garden as it currently is. I fear we too easily dismiss one side or the other of the equation, and we need both.

Cristina said...

I loved the delicate morning light shining on flowers and the tiny dew drops outlining in such a perfect way the leaves.

Beth Kephart said...

My friend Katrina Kenison brought me to your blog today, and I'm so glad she did.